


you make me

by e1even



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Getting Together, M/M, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 11:50:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5538782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e1even/pseuds/e1even
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s 2am, and Kise feels a billion years away from where they met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you make me

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it!! (Shhh it's still Christmas where I am.) I don't know much about the series extension but I do know that it gives me an excuse to write this. 
> 
> Re-edited and expanded December 30th.  
> Aaaand again, January 4th, 2016. Last time, promise. I just think this is below my writing standard.

He did it. He fell for Aomine. He fell for the oafish and simple and asshole-y, lazy, and selfish asshole and Aomine actually caught him this time. Sort of. He’d already fallen for him years ago. They fell into each other. Whatever. Kuroko had thrown confetti last night at the bar they finally broke through that damn wall of sexual tension and ended up in each other's laps. And mouths. Aomine had a big mouth, and for some ungodly reason he knew how to use it.

Before this all he could only imagine how much he’d love that mouth biting at his jaw, those lips on his own. He couldn’t ever even hope for what became reality when Aomine just walked over at that bar and kissed him hard.

It almost made him forget how they managed to stumble into Midorima, so caught up in each other. That was terrifying. Kasamatsu, (who was supposed to be visiting him) threw a coaster at them, and they almost spilled a bloody mary or something on Akashi, only to instead knock over Kagami all on their way to a wall. It was terrifying and exhilarating and so goddamn _worth it._ He got to run his hands up Aomine’s shirt and Aomine had one hand in his hair, and one hand on his ass, and it was for all intents and purposes, well, _maybe_ exhibitionism. A bad idea. Maybe illegal, and he should look into that; for all intents and purposes. It was, for all intents and purposes, absolutely perfect.

Kise’s sure all of Tokyo they exposed themselves to on their way over here would be less okay with their hookup if he and Aomine weren't some of the best forwards in the league, especially when they worked together. Granted, he hasn’t checked his phone. They wouldn’t dare, and the rest of their old teammates would walk out with them. Probably. Okay, some would, enough would to be a threat. It all fell into place, or it would all fall into place. It all worked out so much better than it should’ve. It just fell into place to be exactly what he thought it would be, but better because Aomine was there and in his arms, and around him, and kissing him. And Aomine’s still here, just a room away.

And Kise’s still here, too. For a change from all those years they spent dancing around each other.

And an arm sneaks around his waist and a body by his side as Kise walks out of the bathroom where he’d been staring at himself for maybe a while and wondering how the hell he made it here. He was trying to think, wonder if he was so drunk he finally started hallucinating. Kise had entered that bathroom almost as soon as they managed to make it to Aomine’s apartment, stayed there to try and take a breather, stay calm, to not do something he'd regret by morning.

“Breather done, gorgeous?” Aomine says, and Kise wishes he wasn’t immediately drawn in by that coarse voice, wished he didn’t melt when he realizes Aomine had already taken off his own shirt, leaving him in some loose pants only. Or when Aomine pushes him against the wall, nips at his earlobe and traces around his earring with his tongue helping him discover some erogenous zone he didn't know he had before. 

Aomine, always introducing him to new frontiers.

“Aominecchi…” Kise gasps out, lifting up his head as if to give Aomine more room, but he’s pulling away, looking Kise in the eye instead, some kind of lust, some kind of focus, some kind of passion.

“Ryouta,” The way he purrs out those syllables sends shivers down his spine and he’s watching Kise like a hawk. Aomine's eyes were always so intense, and it felt good to have them rake down his body, look him in the eyes. “You’ve known me long enough to ditch the nickname.”

“Saying you don’t like it, _Daiki_?” Kise replies, trying to provoke something out of Aomine. Though, he never thought he'd call him that to his face, say it anywhere outside of his room when it's dark and his hand's in his boxers, completely knowing he'll be regretting it by the next day. He knows he won't regret this.

And the chain reaction is perfect. Something in Aomine seems to snap with those words, that word, those damn syllables that slid off his tongue like honey. It's all the time ever and no time at all before Kise finds himself pressed between Aomine and the wall, and he’s never regretted wearing a tank top and tight jeans more. There's too much clothing between them.

“Stop talking.” Aomine says, low but excited, commanding in a way that turned him on as much as it pissed him off. His voice was raspy like sandpaper, and Kise can't deny how much he loved hearing it.  
  
Kise shoves a little bit at Aomine, just enough for him to slide a hand down Aomine’s pants, between his skin and his boxers, groping at his ass, and the words slide out are so much more coy than he thought he could be. “Make me.”

Aomine does.

Kise’s slammed up against the wall again within moments, Aomine pulling off his tank top and throwing it somewhere behind them, immediately starts exploring the exposed skin. He's leaving hickies on his collar bones while his hands settle on Kise’s hips, fingers digging in hard, and Kise feels wanted, owned.

Aomine’s hands are warm, and rough, and a little larger than his own. Kise knew these things, but only observed them before. Only imagined them before. He wasn't imagining this. Wonders if Aomine had also imagined this, probably liked the idea of Kise underneath him, in his bed. Kise liked the idea of Aomine liking the idea of him, and if that was narcissistic he couldn't so much as worry with how Aomine was sucking at a spot on his neck and it hurt a little, a lot, felt good.

Aomine continues, travelling down as Kise tilts up his chin to give Aomine more skin to mark up. Time felt slippery. He can’t do much but hold on, let Aomine do what he wanted, loved the feeling of being felt up and wanted and fondled until Aomine finds his nipples, and Kise keens. He's rubbing and twisting at them, pinching lightly and everything, everything with his calloused fingertips. Those were sensitive, so much more sensitive than he thought, and holy shit, how did Aomine know ho- Wait.

“Your breast fetish is showing.” Kise chokes out, sentence dissolving into a helpless groan as Aomine only continues to nip and lap at and tug at and play with the pink buds, calloused hands rubbing at his chest and pinching and why does this feel so good? It was so much better than it should have been, his mouth is going dry and hanging open as Aomine holds him steady, weight pushing him against the wall, hands and mouth still working against him, making him pant.

“You like it, Ryouta.” Aomine mutters against his chest, sounding completely satisfied with himself. Kise is really regretting those pants now, he can feel himself straining against them and it’s suddenly a billion times worse when Aomine shoves a knee between his legs and he bucks and it’s suddenly so much better, so much worse. The friction is amazing and great and at the same time terrible, and it's solid and real and good and it's really _Aomine_ doing everything to him, and that means everything.

“You drive me up the wall.” Kise hisses, trying to hold in a moan, hands up on Aomine’s shoulders, digging in hard. He’s panting. He knows he’s panting, there's no point trying to stifle it.

“I could fuck you against the wall.” Aomine’s hands and fingers are still playing with his chest, and he’s throwing back his head, shutting his eyes tight, fingers still curling in because it’s a little too good, and his hips are moving a little out of his control against the friction Aomine’s leg is providing, and he’s a little worried since he might come from this alone, the combination of everything Aomine is doing to him.

Kise’s still going to try and push Aomine over the edge, make him put his money where his mouth is. They wouldn't be them without some teasing, anyways. “No way.”

“Doubt me?” Aomine growls out, smirk on his face as he gathers up Kise’s hands in his own, holding them and pushing them back against the wall, on either side of Kise’s face.

“I’m heavy, Aominecchi.” He breathes out, hoping Aomine would challenge him, take this to the next step. It’s so much easier to breathe when Aomine’s hands aren’t on him, making him dizzy with sensation. He feels so out of breath actually, completely, and Aomine was making him breathless, so corny. Damnit. His body was everything Kise wanted, and maybe that’s what Kise wanted because it was Aomine. Aomine, Aomine, Aomine, right in front of him.

“I’m heavier.” Aomine replies not breaking eye contact, staring into Kise’s eyes and Kise wonders if his eyes were always that deep blue. Wonders if Aomine had always been so attractive. He's so strong, he probably could hold him up. Wonders if he was just so ridiculous as to pull him into this.

He did meet him by a basketball to the back of the head and neither of them could possibly regret any part of those moments. Ridiculous, wouldn't be too far off.

“The only one who is the same heaviness as me is me.” Kise grins, mocking Aomine’s old saying, the one he still heard slip out sometimes. That was foolish of either of them to hold on to, but, it worked. It fit. Like how his hands fit so perfectly in Aomine’s, right as he held them up against the wall. It's a little restraining but at the same time, so fucking hot that he's doing that, they're doing this.

“The only one who can shut you up is me.” Comes the reply, and it’s so dark and deep and gravelly Kise feels it in his bones and his dick strain against his tight jeans as Aomine speaks right up against his ear.

Aomine leans in to kiss him, fast, and it’s not like they’re breathing into each other, too quick, but it’s not a chaste kiss either, Aomine nipping at his lower lip and making him moan, and Kise’s not feeling completely there, hardly focusing on how hot he feels underneath Aomine’s touch.

“Daiki…” He says, letting it trail out, letting himself taste those syllables like he did once or twice when he was too drunk and with some other man too drunk to care what he called him.

“That’s a yes, right?” Aomine says, snide, and as much as Kise wanted to kiss that look off his face, he’d rather have Aomine kiss his neck, fondle his body and make him cry out because it feels too good. He’d bet Aomine could fuck him until he screams. He wants him to, knows he would. Definitely should, but he'll settle for having Aomine's hands back on him, touching him all over. The distance between them is just a breath and too far. He's running out of patience.

“Please, don’t be so mean, just touch me, please.” And Aomine releases his hands, undoes Kise’s pants and starts to peel them off his legs, sliding his briefs off with them. Kise shakily exhales at the release, those pants were too tight for this, for anything, and his erection's bobbing slightly for just a moment until Aomine’s stroking him lightly with his hand, and Kise can’t help but buck forwards into his touch.

“Getting excited, beautiful?” Aomine mutters, shoving Kise’s pants away, letting his own fall off his hips after he undoes the fastener, and his underwear with it, and Kise can’t look away. Like, this wasn’t the first time he’s seen Aomine’s cock, but it’s completely different in this context when it’s hanging heavy and hard between his legs, and Kise’s swallowing and somehow in a good way. It's so hot, just this, temperature, everything. It's incredibly different from any other time in a locker room or some showers or any time at all before this.

Aomine eventually steps forwards, and Kise justifies to himself that he’s just helping, one hand reaching onto his hip, and they look so good together, and the other to take hold of Aomine’s length, stroke it and his mouth is watering still. Aomine gives him a good reaction, though, a breathy groan and a knowing look. He wants to shove Aomine down and ride him hard, to the point his legs would be sore the next day and Aomine was holding onto his hips so hard he’ll have bruises. So many more things. He just wants to do absolutely everything with Aomine and they actually might now.

“Ryouta, how are we doing this?” Aomine breathes out, and Kise wants to bury himself in how Aomine says his name, and he’s just going to be honest. Kise knew he liked being fucked, liked someone else doing the work, knew how strong Aomine was, knew he’d want to dominated by Aomine in bed from the day they played against each other. Fantasized about it.

“Aominecchi, you in me.” Kise says, eyes still drawn downwards to where Aomine was close enough now, hand back, stroking his cock too, and they looked just so good together. Aomine was bigger than him, in every way, thicker, and he felt so good in his hand, so hot, and Aomine’s hand is so definitely bigger than his, needs to move less to stroke him fully, and that’s an intoxicating thought. He thought of him of his hands and knees and Aomine fucking him hard, or missionary, deep and sweet. There’s not many things Kise likes better than something deep inside him, almost wishes he got more from any other kind of sex.

“It’ll be a tight fit.” Aomine whispers in his ear, licking around the shell of it afterwards, stroking Kise hard, hand closing tighter, and Kise loves and hates the high, breathy sound it pulls out of him, Aomine was too hot, way too hot. It would be a tight fit, but he can't tell Aomine he's right even as his imagination runs wild with that. Kise has such thin hips, and it’ll feel so good. Aomine inside him, stretching him a little bit and filling him up. Kise knew he was a bit of a size queen and can't even deny it like this. Not that he won't. Can’t let Aomine know right off the bat about all the things he's thinking about., ego’s too big in the first place.

“You’re not that big.” Kise pants as Aomine’s other hand returns to tugging and playing with his chest, and he whines, and Aomine only moves faster, and he’s struggling to keep his own hand moving half as evenly over his thick shaft, and Kise wants to stop thinking about what it'll feel like inside him. Never wants to stop wondering. Wants to stop thinking about it and do it instead.

“I am.” Aomine replies, smooth as his motions, and Kise’s giving up trying to pretend Aomine’s bravado and insistence wasn’t such a huge turn on, falling back and trying to hold on for the ride. Aomine seems to like this, keeps working at Kise’s chest and hard length the way Kise reacts strongest too. “Done this before?”

Kise pants, shuts his eyes hard like it'll help him bear the sensation of Aomine trying to work him up. Aomine was at least as drunk as he was, clumsy movements, but it wasn’t taking all that much away, maybe because Kise was drunk too. It was such a personal question and somehow meaningless when he's got Aomine in front of him. He manages to stumble out a phrase, hope it means what he needs it to mean. “Lots.”

“How many?” Aomine lets go of him, and Kise’s falling back against the wall like it’ll make up for the spine Aomine liquidated in him, and it’s cool against his back. Kise wonders what colour it is, anything to keep his mind away from the vision probably in front of him and the throbbing between his thighs.

“Three. Get some lube.” Why would Aomine give a shit who he was with? Kise had to be careful about hookups, the media loved him. He was the nation’s pretty boy right now, still was, Aomine probably fucked whoever, and if Aomine wasn’t going to get down to fucking him like he meant it, he’d find someone else. He could, it wouldn't be hard.

...No, he wouldn’t.

“I lost count, doesn’t matter, none of them were you.” Aomine says and as much as Kise wants to be swept away by that kind of phrase, Aomine was also fucking drunk, Kise guesses it makes sense if he was good at fucking while drunk, explains how he was still so in his head right now.

“Lube.” Kise whines out, trying to make Aomine get a move on, and he wants to believe he wasn’t whining but that was a whine, and the way it made Aomine react to him was worth it, eyes going wide and him leaving just for a moment to go through his back pocket of his pants over where ever on the floor, and as much as Kise would be pissed if he assumed he'd get this far, the whole idea of them getting this far is too attractive, too hot to think about. And Aomine's back up against him, holding up one of his legs by the knee and Kise lets out some strangled moan when Aomine pushes one of his fingers inside, and shit, he’s bigger than Kise, he’s just a bit bigger than Kise and it drives him nuts in a good way, and he can’t help but squirm back against, stutter forwards against Aomine’s hand on his cock. “Too easy to slide in, you fuck yourself lately?”

Kise’s face burns at that, and he’s surprised he even has enough blood above his crotch to blush. “Aominecchi, rude!”

“So you did.” Aomine replies, adding in two more fingers at once, and Kise’s voice cracks on a whine. He’s biting back moans now, Aomine’s thick fingers felt too good inside him. It only gets harder to try and keep the sounds in when Aomine curls them in, and there’s a blinding pleasure alongside the discomfort until Aomine pulls out his fingers, and Kise’s whimpering at the loss until Aomine suddenly pulls at his hands and clasped them behind his neck, and says: “Hold on, Ryouta.” 

“Daiki, wha-” Kise begins to say, eyes flying open when Aomine’s lifting one of his legs and angling and pressing inside him and he’s just standing and Aomine’s holding him up. He’s big, he feels bigger than Kise thought he would be and he’s moaning as Aomine sinks in, loves the feeling of being stretched open, and the tingles of pain that come with the knowledge that Aomine’s inside him, Aomine’s forcing him wide, and his weight’s only helping him sink onto that hard, thick cock, and it’s Aomine. It’s all harsh breathing but Kise can’t even think, can only hold on while Aomine’s bucking up into him, pushing himself deeper in.

The slight burn is perfect, and Kise’s hitching up his other leg, and Aomine’s letting him hold onto his waist with both legs, moves his hands to support Kise front under his thighs, on his hips, and Aomine’s still breathing by his ear, making him shudder. This is going to be one hell of a workout for the both of them, and the pull in his legs already feels good, adds an edge, and Kise’s not sure how long he’s going to last so long as Aomine keeps devoting so much attention to him.

“I told you I could fuck you on the wall.” Aomine says, voice sounding strained, and breath hitching. Kise wanted to kiss that smug look off his face as much as he wanted Aomine inside him, fucking him, and this was hot. This was so, so hot. Aomine was going to hold them up, and Kise didn’t have anything to squirm against.

It takes a while for him to bottom out, and Kise’s toes are curling with the slow pace, but then the depth. Aomine feels too thick inside him. It hurts so good and Kise hates that phrase but it does. He's just trying to think or shift or something, but Kise’s head is spinning, and he’s trying to move and Aomine’s moving him instead, pulling back and pushing back in ever so slowly. 

It makes him exhale shakily, and Kise really hopes that says all that needs to be said.

“Take it easy, gorgeous. I want to take care of you tonight.” Aomine purrs in his ear, continuing to thrust slowly, and Kise feels like he’s melting, like he’ll never be more alive, like he wants to complain about that nickname and Aomine’s just so big in him, maybe it’s been too long. Not long enough. Wonders if Aomine’s just that good or if he’s a little too out of practice, but then Aomine’s moving faster.

It only gets hazier from that point on, and Kise’s finding it so difficult to hold on, every rough sound from Aomine only makes him feel harder, closer to the edge Aomine’s been keeping him near all night. Possessive, attractive, bullheaded Aomine. Kise’s given up holding in his keening sounds, whiny breaths and thin moans Aomine keeps pulling out of him every time he pushes in, pulls out. Aomine wasn't be as rough as Kise would like, but he was definitely in control, setting the pace, filling him up completely with every thrust. Kise knows he’ll be sore tomorrow, and nothing else will ever be so worth it.

Aomine bucks up a little bit, pushes at Kise to change the angle, and he slides right against Kise’s prostate, and Kise can’t hold in his moans, hardly words at this point. Stars are dancing behind his eyelids and he’s so happy he’s not looking at Aomine because that would probably make him come already. And then Aomine stills, as if waiting for something. He can’t take it, but he can take a breather even though he wanted to be absolutely overwhelmed.

“Right there! Ah, again, don’t tease, Aominecchi, please, I’m close already.” Kise whines out, tightening his arms around Aomine’s neck and clenching maybe less than unintentionally. He needs Aomine to keep fucking him, push him over the edge, and there’s basically no friction on his cock, and that just makes it better, coming only from Aomine fucking him, the thought alone is too good.

Aomine growls, his hold on Kise tightening as he stills for a moment, sheathed fully in his body and Kise’s flexing, trying to fuck himself on Aomine’s thick cock, almost can’t hear Aomine over the rush of blood in his ears. “Fuck, Ryouta, I’m so close too.”

“Fuck me, then, fuck me, please, just do it, we’re both close, come with me, make me come Daiki.” The words pour out, and Kise’s shuddering, trembling in Aomine’s grip, bouncing up against the wall as Aomine exhales, taking his words to heart, and Kise’s feeling him almost every time, up hard against that one spot and he’s moaning more than he’s moaned before, and maybe because they’re both drunk that this doesn’t feel like it’ll last at all.

“Come for me, then, beautiful.” Aomine mutters, and he’s kissing Kise’s jaw, unevenly, it’s the only thing he can manage when he’s fucking so hard into Kise, yanking his hips to crash into his own when he thrusts in. Kise’s just letting his mouth hang open now, Aomine’s being so rough with him and he’s feeling tears bud at the corners of his eyes, and it feels so good, and it also probably hurts but he can’t tell the difference in the heat pooling down and it’s just a little too much.

Aomine bites at his shoulder, and that’s the tipping point.

“Daiki! Daiki, I’m, please, Daiki!” Kise whines as he comes, and Aomine’s helping him get to the floor, and Kise’s just shuddering, can hardly pay attention to anything for a moment, intense feelings wracking his body, and Aomine’s already pulled out, grunting as he jerks himself off just two, three more times, and he’s coming too, harshly breathing and panting out his name. “Ryouta.”

Aomine is the one to clean him up with some tissues while Kise lies back, he’s fully capable of moving, maybe, his legs feel a little weak, but he just loves the idea, the feeling of Aomine taking care of him. And maybe he dozes off a little under the gentle care, he’s drunk, maybe he’d worry about it later.

When Kise comes to, he’s in Aomine’s arms under the covers in his futon, and Aomine’s chest is against his back, and it’s perfect, if he didn’t have questions he can't save for when they’d be sober and probably hungover and trying their best to navigate the morning.

“Hey, Aominecchi… Don’t fall asleep!” Kise says, voice breathy and rough, shoving at Aomine to try and make sure he had his full attention. There were too many questions. It was perfect, but why did the barrier only come crashing down now? Why now, of all those goddamn years?

“Getting comfortable, what?” He replies, as casually, as brashly as he always did, and it makes Kise’s heart beat a little faster, just this simple interaction.

“Why now?” And he’s only just drunk enough to ask that, too fucked out of his mind and stress to even think about asking something so heavy. Something that’s bothered him all this time. He needs to know, and curled up on Aomine’s futon, this seems like the best, or maybe the only time to ask these questions.

“Didn’t want to lose you.” Aomine states, yawning a little at the end, hardly budging an inch, but somehow curling into Kise more, holding them close together.

“What?” Kise utters in disbelief. Aomine seemed the jealous type, but now?

Aomine just lays back down, mumbles out something Kise nearly misses. “Lost you a lot of times.”

Kise stills at the honesty of that statement, like the quiet was growing around them in some tangible way, something peaceful and intimate. Like those miscellaneous sounds of clattering and footsteps above or around in other parts of the building didn’t matter, didn’t even exist. “I lost you more times.”

“Nah, sleep.” Aomine’s mumbling, and as much as Kise’s right, he settles for huffing, leaning back into Aomine’s chest, and for some reason or another, that was perfect. His arms around him, legs tangled with his above sheets on a futon left on the floor. Neither of them had any clothes on, and Kise couldn’t care, anyways, all that mattered was the feeling of Aomine, around him, really here.

Everything had simmered down, long past late, and as much as he knew there’d be worlds of issues to deal with in the morning, that was far away from here. Far away from everything.

Nothing mattered as much as what they finally, finally figured out.

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder to use condoms, and communication is key if you're actually going to have sex. (Also that I might possibly write a second chapter to this later, when I come back to edit it.) Thanks for reading!


End file.
